


Reprieve

by orphan_account



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: All the S.O’s are ok with it, F/F, F/M, Just good clean family fun, M/M, Multi, OT7, Romantic Fluff, Takes place during season eight, Team Bonding, The BAU team in a seven way polyamorous relationship, not an orgy fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-27 15:12:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19793506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The BAU goes on a team picnic.





	Reprieve

**Author's Note:**

> There’s a distressing lack of poly team fics in this fandom. I would love to see more of them 
> 
> [It’s certainly possible that I’m the one weirdo out there who craves a team dynamic like this but this is ao3 after all.]
> 
> This is my first work for criminal minds. I’m usually more into fandoms of character driven shows so it’s fun working in a space where there’re a lot more room for headcanons on trivial things. Not sure if any of mine are fanon accurate since I haven’t read many fics. :))

The seven members of the behavior analysis unit love each other. For some, like Rossi and Blake who form a covenant over their shared affection for Westerns from the 1940’s, their love is new and exciting. For others, including Reid and Hotch who have supported each other through a bittersweet decade of victories and hardships, their love is almost as familiar as breathing. The relationships between members of the team grow and change, evolving just as beautifully as the team itself does. It’s not sexual between everyone but simple platonic friendship doesn’t even begin to describe the bond they share.

Loose lips are more common than they should be within the bureau. It’s only human nature that people talk. The rumors spread aren’t subtle. Raised eyebrows from the locals on the many occasions where they choose to stay together in one hotel room aren’t exactly an isolated phenomenon either.

“Let them talk. We do our job and we’re damn good at it! Those people couldn’t see _half_ as much as we rob and come out the other side intact. There’s a reason we all make it. It’s because of what we have together.” Morgan often reminds Garcia and Reid, who get unhealthily anxious about what other people think. Afterwards they pile unto Morgan, a glasses wearing geek extraordinaire on each side, and listen to the steady beating of his heart until their both feeling well enough to go back to goodnaturedly arguing about whether Revolutionary Girl Utena or Sailor Moon is the superior shoujo anime of the 1990’s. 

When the weight of Blake’s pent up emotions get to be too much JJ is there with her soft curves and soulful eyes, to listen while the other woman is curled up in her arms. If she wants to forget for a while Reid is there, ready and willing to talk her damn ear off, drowning out the noise in her head with obscure facts about things like the first five years of soviet space travel.

Rossi reserves space for private cooking lessons with Hotch on most Sunday evenings. They had started a few weeks after the first team dinner at Rossi’s place. At first Hotch had turned up on his doorstep when he was at his loneliest but as old wounds healed it became just another way for the men. Sometimes they make light conversation and sometimes they work together in comfortable silence to cook chicken cacciatore, gnocchi, or some equally delicious Italian dish to share with the rest of the team come Monday. 

On the rare occasion that Reid goes on a health kick Hotch brings him along on early morning runs, going as slow as the younger man needs to be able to keep up. Every time they grab coffee afterwards he rolls his eyes at Spencer’s seven sweeteners and jokes that he’s undone all their hard work in one unspeakably sugar filled sip. 

Garcia holds R&R sessions at her apartment after particularly taxing cases. There isn’t a lot of time to fix your makeup when there’s a spree killer to be caught and sometimes the girls need a pick me up. JJ and Blake are her most frequent visitors, they paint each other’s nails and marathon B rate action movies on her plush couch. The first time Rossi had joined in the girls had uncovered a secret affinity for pedicures. Now whenever he’s around Garcia’s personal foot spa is put to good use. 

It’s difficult to find a way for all seven of them to spend an evening together that doesn’t entail chasing American made monsters halfway across the country. The sheer amount of planning it takes to corral seven grown adults with busy personal lives into one place _and_ having those seven agree on an activity would exhaust pretty much anyone. But Penelope Garcia isn’t just anyone, she’s a event planning goddess armed with a truckload of energy drinks and a shit ton of excel spreadsheets. She teamed up with Reid and spendt the better part of a week compiling a list of schedules and interests. Then she worked her magic. 

Ever since then, barring a case interfering, the team holds Wednesday meet ups. The only consistency being that they occur between six and ten at night and must involve food, which just so happens to be the only interest the spreadsheet showed unanimous agreement in. They’ve been bowling, [Reid always scores a nearly perfect game] wine tasting, [Rossi is always enthralled with the Italian selection.] farmers markets [Garcia always buys way too much artisan cheese] and clubbing, [Morgan always attempts to embarrass the rest of them with his appalling attempt at moonwalking] and to a number of other large group friendly activities. The one thing they haven’t done is a picnic and Blake decides to fix that. 

She spends a few days stockpiling patterned picnic blankets and researching the highest rated public parks in the area before proposing the idea to the rest of the team. Everyone readily agrees. Blake had been planning on spending the day attempting personal picnic baskets with club sandwiches and lemonade until JJ suggests everyone bringing a surprise dish and it’s decided that the food requirement will be filled that way instead.

Blake and Hotch arrive first and set up shop atop a grassy hill, under the shade of an overbearing oak tree. She’s brought a quiche lorraine while Hotch is cradling a sad looking loaf of banana bread [Rossi obviously didn’t help him this time]

They spread out the blankets and trade semi serious wagers about the teams in the upcoming super bowl while they wait for the others to arrive. JJ is next. Hotch and Blake watch as she runs up the hill juggling several glass pitchers full of iced apple tea. Rossi follows close enough behind to catch a jug that slips out of her grasp as she attempts a wave. She only stops professing her gratitude when he pulls the cannolis from his shoulder bag out with a flourish. 

The first four arrivals are already enjoying Rossi’s masterful combination of ricotta, chocolate, and pastry shell when Morgan pulls up, Garcia and Reid in tow, fashionably late as always. They come bearing gifts of maple bacon cupcakes fruit salad and bean dip that Garcia insists were group efforts which Morgan and Reid clarify as meaning Reid frosted and refrosted the cupcakes at least ten times until he was completely satisfied at the icing quality and Morgan searched in vain for a missing tub of dole sour cream while Garcia sprinted around the kitchen doing absolutely everything else. 

“You guys were wonderful sous chefs!” Garcia protests, pecking each man on the cheek before sitting herself in between them on one of the blankets. The rest of the team follows their lead trading quick kisses and touches as they settle into place. 

When they’re finished with their greetings Blak breaks out the paper plates and Garcia passes around some selections from her hand painted collection of Disney mugs while Hotch fills them in on Jacks latest escapades. The rest of them dole out the food. When Hotch mentions Jack’s recent A plus on a math test he’d worried about prepping him for the entire team toasts the achievement. Morgan demands they toast again after he gets his first taste of Rossi’s cannolis. They do so and once more for the luck they’ve had on cases the past couple weeks. 

Blake’s quiche and the artful precision of Reid’s cupcake frosting join the cannolis in receiving praise as the team enjoys the meal. Morgan wolfs down his portions and half of Garcia’s before anyone else finishes their helpings. Conversations drifts into innocuous topics like whether Rossi’s karaoke could stand up to competition on America’s got talent and the progress of the salsa classes JJ signed up for a few months back.

The sun is setting in soft shades of lilac by the time they’ve finished eating. Morgan stretches out on Blake’s lap sleepy and sated from all the food. Reid is braiding Blake’s hair and Hotch and Garcia are starting up a game of gin rummy. JJ’s started boxing up the leftovers and checking in with Will who’s having a boys night out with their sons when Rossi can’t stop himself from asking. 

“Garcia, where on earth did you find that monstrosity?” He wonders pointing at her outfit, in a tone is sounds equal parts fascinated and confused. 

“You mean this old thing?” Garcia gasps, places a hand over her chest in mock contemp. She sets down her deck so she can stand up and give a little twirl that better show of her red checkered ruffle dress to the rest of team. It’s not so unusual, if you exclude the embroidered picnic basket and hoagie pattern. 

“I have a friend in Alberta who handmakes them. I can commission one for you if you want!” She offers, completely serious.

“A _dress_?” Blake raises an eyebrow. 

“That’s very kind of you Garcia but I doubt I could pull one off as _gorgeously_ as you do.” Rossi answers holding back a laugh. 

“I disagree.” Reid interjects.

“I was thinking more of a button up with spaghetti and meatball prints.” Garcia shrugs.

”Oh! Or you could have her do mini cannolis!” JJ adds.

“And make him into more of an Italian stereotype? Is that really a good idea.” Hotch jokes pulling Garcia back down to their game. 

“Be expecting one.” She warns before immersing herself in her cards. “Christmas? Your next birthday. Could be _anytime_. It’ll come when you least expect it in all it’s embroidered glory.” 

“I don’t doubt it.” Rossi smiles. 

Its quiet for a while, each group embroiled in their own conversations until Blake clears her throat and the rest of the team looks up expectantly to find her standing arm in arm with Rossi on the crest of hill. 

“So...Our movie night is next week.” She begins. The dissent follows almost immediately. Movie nights are a monthly occurrence. Hosting and popcorn purchasing duties get passed around but the movie is always selected via popular vote unless it’s someones birthday. In which case said person gets executive privilege. They’ve been subjected to Stephen Hawking's a brief history of time via this rule. _Twice_. “Rossi and I want to put forth a suggestion.” She continues.

“Oh _god_.” Garcia grips Hotch’s arm nervously.

“My Darling Clementine. 1946.” Rossi finishes for her.

“Never heard of it.” JJ says sarcastically. Blake and Rossi have been suggesting My Darling Clementine for the past three months and after all their efforts are still tragically outnumbered. They need two other people to reach the 4-3 majority. Reid can be reliably swung by way of bribery, [Blake always promise to bring him a family sized pack of black licorice on movie night in exchange for his cooperation] but the others have yet to take pity on them. 

“Usual deal?” Reid asks her now. 

“Of course.” Rossi nods back. The rest of the team begins squabbling over alternate suggestions while Reid is bent intently over his phone screen. 

“Huh. It has a one hundred percent on rotten tomatoes.” He announces when he looks up. No one else seems convinced.

“It does! And It’s a _classic_.” Blake pleads. “Something for everyone. Romance, drama even something for my fellow action buffs.” She stares pointedly at JJ and Garcia. 

“Come on guys. I swear you’ll enjoy it. Just give it a chance. Rossi joins in. 

“They just don’t make them like they used to. Pacing characterization. The _atmosphere_.” Blake gushes hoping someone will cave just to get her to stop talking. It has the intended effect. 

“Alright.” Morgan sighs. “It’s sad watching you two get so passionate about something and not getting to share it with us. I’ll vote with you. If only to avoid the possibility of watching Tron.” Morgan sideyes Reid who stares forlornly back. “Sorry pretty boy. Maybe next time” 

“Thank you Morgan. For seeing sense.” Rossi jokes as they sit back down, the matter decided.

The rest of the parks cleared out by this point. The cicadas are singing. Garcia slaps at her arms mumbling something about “the unparalleled relentlessness mosquitos in these parts.” 

“You’re just too sweet for them to resist mama.” Morgan teases, pulling her in closer. 

“I understand the feeling.” Reid agrees squeezing in on her other side. “But I packed insect repellent if you need it.”

“Next time lead with the repellent instead of the pickup line.” Rossi laughs. Hotch cracks a smile at that. It’s not his first of the night but it’s certainly the largest. 

“Aha! _There_ it is!” JJ elbows him playfully. Blake throws a convivial arm around his shoulder and pulls him to the ground. JJ follows. 

“ _What_?” Hotch feigns ignorance.

”Your megawatt smile.” Rossi rolls his eyes and lays down next to them. “Guaranteed to make everyone that comes into contact with it melt.” 

“Mhmm. You should use it more often.” Blake adds with a smile all her own.

“Hey! You can’t overuse the Hotch grin!” Garcia protests falling into the space next to Rossi and tugging Morgan and Reid along behind her. “It’ll lose its power.” 

“It could never.” Reid yawns. 

“Hey babygirl. What’s the time.” Morgan asks as they’re all getting comfortable.

“Quarter till nine.” Garcia answers picking up Reid’s arm to check his wristwatch.

“That late?” Rossi shakes his head in disbelief. “Already?”

”Time flies when you’re having fun.” JJ shrugs. 

“Or arguing over Old Hollywood Westerns.” Reid quips.

The team are laying on their backs looking up at the clear night sky arms wrapped around waists, heads resting on laps or chests. To passerby they probably look like a miniature commune straight out of the free love era. In the moment not a single one of them cares. They’re simply seven people with a bond forged by so much more than everyday troubles reveling in each other’s company and staring at the stars.

They are their for each other in every possible way. And it’s a wonderful thing. Everyone would probably have been content to lay on the blanket, the more restless of the group carrying on whispered conversations until ten. Then Hotch’s phone rings and he frees himself from where he’s sandwiched between Rossi and Blake and scrambles to answer the call. He’s quiet while a nondescript voice on the line speaks rattles off instructions. The mood is quickly broken. 

“Thank you ma’am. Understood. We’ll be there shortly.” He says before hanging up. When he turns back to face the team all remnants of the Hotch grin have dissipated. 

“Something wrong?” Morgan asks, knowing the answer as well as everyone else does. 

“That was Strauss.” Hotch replies his tone clipped and professional. “There’s an emergency. There’s a new case and it’s extremely time sensitive. We need to go _immediately_.” 

The team works in near perfect synchronization, neatly bundling blankets and quickly shoving food containers back into bags. They’re running towards the parking lot less than three minutes later Hotch and JJ sprinting at the front Reid and Garcia, hand in hand, bringing up the rear. They mourn the time lost silently as they pile into vehicles. JJ takes Rossi Blake and Hotch into her minivan. It’s more time efficient to take two cars instead of five.

The seven members of the behavioral analysis unit love each other but there’s no more time to focus on that. Duty calls, as it often does, at the most inopportune of times. They are ready to get back to work, completely focused by the time they pull into the parking lot.

And if anyone in the building finds it strange that the entire BAU shows up to Quantico at once near eleven on a Wednesday evening they don’t dare say anything about it. 

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is much appreciated :))


End file.
